August 2009

It's been a long time since my last post. Life has changed for me and I don't even live at the ramshackle house any longer. I guess I'll just live a ramshackled life instead.

As far as experiments go, this summer didn't hold much in the food and sustainability experiments department. I have been experimenting in other parts of my life -- but I'll leave those parts to your imagination for now.

One of the truths of my August and September is that I haven't bought produce. Not a real level of produce anyway. I have bought the occasional hot pepper, the melon here and there, the necessary lime or lemon. But really, almost nothing.

The CSA has come to my rescue again. I went to my neighborhood farmers market the other week just for fun and it was almost painful. All the beautiful and amazing foods that I couldn't buy because I just can't eat that much produce! A fine problem to have.

It's fun to be swimming in green beans and cucumbers. Then, of course, every two weeks there is another fruit reaching perfection. In Oregon, we do not lack fruits. I guess we are short on citrus, but I prefer stone fruit anyway. First there was the berries, then the peaches, the early little plums, then the cherries, the figs, now the fat plums, the grapes, the pears and the apples are just around the corner. Oh, and what about asian pears -- but it's actually hard for me to tell when those are ever ripe. They're always so hard. But fruit has been falling freely and abudantly into my life non-stop this summer.

The fruits though -- plums especially -- trigger me in an almost manic way. Right now Italian plums are covering the trees in my life by the thousands. So many plums, there are hundreds on a single tree. Hanging there purple black and covered in a white mist of sugary ripeness. Everywhere. I have like 50 plums in my fridge right now -- avoiding the fruitflies. But what do I do. I can, I freeze, I make cake and clafoutis. There are still more.

Something about the fruit on the tree gives me a hording reaction. Take as many as I can carry and I'll figure it out later! Gather Gather Gather. Now I'm drowning and spending every free moment processing plums. For what? 30 jars of plum jam? Strange homemade asian plum sauce? Yet another sugary dessert that my ass does not need. Well, yes.

But I can't say no. I can't just walk away.

What is it about the wasted plums that I hate? I guess part of it is total confusion. Why are there still 200 plums on every tree? Why are these same plums at New Seasons fancy market for $3.99 for a little green box and people are buying them and letting these splat on the grass?
People are dumb I guess. Really I suppose people just don't have the time to pick or the knowledge of the good trees. Bummer.

I don't have the time either -- I need to cut back.

Spending my life as an end of summer food processor is so satisfying but pretty unsustainable.